


Bloom

by ThirteenOakdown



Series: 13's Mechanics AU [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, allthingswhovian, also extremely gay, also my dad's sitting across me right now and he doesn't want me to be writing this, but also not included, but anyway, but not actually included in here, come and say hi, cross posted on my tumblr, doctor who - Freeform, missy's also mentioned, multiple mentions of yaz's family, thirteenth doctor/yaz - Freeform, yaz/thirteen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 16:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18814792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirteenOakdown/pseuds/ThirteenOakdown
Summary: [Part 2 of 4 in Thirteen's Auto Repair Shop AU]Yaz's car breaks down, and a knight in shining armour comes to her rescue.Except that the knight is really, really pretty,And Yaz is really, really gay.





	Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Song -- Bloom by Troye Sivan

# Bloom — Troye Sivan 

— This is an AU with tiny tweaks where River and Thirteen did not end up together but are still friends — 

I’m sorry this is so late

—

Yaz was on her phone, scrolling through “mechanics near me” on her phone and determinedly ignoring the small wisp of black smoke curling up from under the hood of her borrowed-police cruiser. After Google showed her results for the nearest 5-star rating mechanic shop, called “Thirteen’s Mechanics”, which was more than half an hour away, and she dropped her head onto the grey dashboard, groaning all the while. 

She stayed like that for a while before she noticed a soft rapping against the window of her car, and she looked up to see a honey-blonde haired woman at her window, fingers with nails chewed down to the quick hitting the window in beats of four, all equally spaced. Besides, she was cute, so Yaz opened the door, stepping out, and hopped up onto the sidewalk. She had to look up slightly to reach the woman’s eyes, and the woman must have thought this was cute, because her eyes crinkled, filling her face with warmth. Yaz held out a hand, and said briskly, “PC Khan. What can I help you with?” The woman pointed behind her and said “Nah, I was passing by and wondered whether I could fix you up.” The woman had an amazing Yorkshire accent, and it was close to reducing Yaz’s knees to jelly, but she managed to squeeze out a sentence of “Are you a mechanic?” The woman raised her hand, bringing Yaz’s eyes to the dark blue toolkit that was hung off her shoulder, and stepped off the curb, eagerly prying open the hood. Darkly dangerous smoke welled out of the car; especially the air filter, which had streaks of ashy grey trailed across it, dark and ominous-looking. The woman’s nose rumpled up, and Yaz couldn’t help but remark that “You look adorable.” The woman looked up, smiled, and looked away, pale cheeks flushing slightly. “Thanks. I’m Jane Smith, though people call me “Thirteen”, or sometimes “Doctor”, you know, cause I fix engines up, therefore I’m a Doctor of Engines.” Yaz smiled, cause her enthusiasm was infectious, and she seemed like a kind and amazing person. Thirteen shook her head, eyes narrowing as she glared at the engine, and looked back at Yaz. “I think you should sit down, because this is going to take a while.” Yaz smiled. 

“Would you, by any chance, run Thirteen’s repair shop?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“You are now my knight in shining armour.”

“Um. Thanks?”

“Just teasing you.” 

—

Jane looked up from the car, her eyes reflecting her infectious triumph in fixing the car, and she closed the hood, letting it fall shut with a satisfying slam, and turned back to Yaz, who was looking at her amazedly. “Oh, I could snog you for that, Jane.” Jane smiled, turning a cheek, and said happily “I wasn’t going to ask for anything, but I’ve changed my mind. Yasmin Khan, I’d like a kiss…if you wouldn’t mind?” Yaz brought her hand up to cup Jane’s face and pressed a quick and affectionate kiss to Jane’s cheek, saying “Thank you,” and that she had to run, leaving Jane behind on the pavement where she had been relocated, a hand still lightly touching her cheek, looking a little dazed, then she shook her head, and continued with her journey back to her mechanics shop-slash-apartment.

The sunset was stunning, a canvas of splattered salmon and rose golds and violets dashed together like the work of a madman, or rather, a genius.

It was a beautiful evening, Jane thought to herself.

— 

The second time that Jane met Yaz was a complete accident. Jane had been working on her friend Michelle’s, or rather, Missy’s motorcycle. She liked being called Missy, for some reason, and Jane had obliged, on the condition that Missy call her Doctor as well. 

Missy was also extremely impatient, as she had come in three times in the last three days to tell the Doctor to hurry up, so she was hurrying her way through repairing Missy’s tyrian purple and jet black Vespa when she heard the small bell situated above the door ring, a clear peal ringing through the relative emptiness of the shop. Without turning around, she said annoyedly “Missy, how many times do I have to tell you that the more times you come in and bother me, the later I’m going to finish your Vespa? You do know that, right?” To her surprise and embarassment, the voice that replied wasn’t Missy’s, but someone else’s, and she sounded really familiar, but Jane couldn’t put a finger on whose voice that was, so she turned around, cheeks flushing slightly with embarassment and found herself looking at Yaz. “Oh, I’m really sorry. I thought you were-” “Missy?” Jane looked down, sitting down on the faux-leather seat of the Vespa and sighing. “Yeah, Missy. A good friend of mine from ages ago, and we’ve been good friends ever since we were little.” She lightly brushed her hand along the sleek lines of the Vespa, adding nonchalantly “We dated a long time ago, but decided we were better off as friends.” 

Yaz shrugged, swept some metal parts aside on a vintage-looking wooden desk and sat down, and Jane turned back to the Vespa, and a slightly awkward silence settled over the workshop. Yaz looked at the various tools that littered the workshop, thinking of something to say. Jane was the first to break the silence, asking “Say, how can I help you, Yaz?” Yaz looked up, biting her lip, and said “Do you not want me here?” Jane looked at her, the words tumbling out of her mouth, apologies and “You look like a kicked puppy, I’m sorry I’m sorry you’re free to stay if you want.” Yaz smiled, seeming to actually relax for the first time. “Sorry, Jane, I haven’t done this in a while.” Jane turned back to the Vespa, trying to conceal a smile. “It’s perfectly fine, Yaz. I’m pretty rusty at this too. Wanna go out to dinner with me?” Yaz’s eyes widened to the point of comical, and Jane was about to retract the offer when Yaz nodded. “Sure. Want me to drive?” Jane shook her head, writing an address down on a slip of paper and handing it to Yaz. “Meet me here, and check in under the name of Maverick.” She noticed Yaz’s inquisitive gaze and the question on the tip of her tongue, and Jane answered it. “Smith’s too common a last name, in fact the other day I bumped into someone called Matt Smith, and we got to know each other. He seemed to be a celebrity of sorts, and I feel like I knew him, but he was gone after a minute after a hug, probably scared of being mobbed by people.” Yaz shrugged. “Huh. I’ll look him up.” After a quick goodbye and another cheek kiss that left Yaz’s head reeling with happiness, she practically skipped home, a stroke of sheer luck that she lived close to a cute mechanic’s shop. 

—

It was easy to overlook the quiet and elegant purr of a motorcycle pulling up outside the restaurant, especially if you hadn’t been expecting it. Yaz had checked in under the name of Jane Maverick, “Right this way, ma’am,” and she had ordered a glass of elderflower wine. She was sipping it delicately when the waiter had reappeared with Jane, who was looking stunning in a black pinstriped suit and red bow tie, a striking contrast against the black and white. She folded herself gracefully into the seat and ordered a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, then turned to Yaz. “Hi! You look gorgeous in that red dress.” Yaz smiled and smoothed her hand down her dress instinctively, and said “Thank you.” Jane continued with “I’m really glad you turned up, cause if you hadn’t, I would be sitting here, quite awkwardly. But enough talk about what could have been. Tell me about you, Yaz. Siblings? Favourite song? Favourite book?” Yaz thought about it, and replied with “I’m a younger sister to a sister called Sonya Khan, and my parents are Hakim and Najia Khan. Me mum’s a hotel manager, and my dad’s very happy to be a conspiracy theorist and a stay-at-home dad, but he does drive me absolutely bonkers sometimes. My favourite song is broken by lovelytheband, all one word, and my favourite book would be The Time Traveller’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger*. It’s a really good book.” She took another sip of the wine, and reflected the question back at Jane. “How about you?” Jane shrugged, replying “I’ve got an older brother called Irving Braxiatel, I know, weird name, I love Supermassive Black Hole by Muse, and my favourite book would definitely be The Visible Man by Chuck Klosterman**.” Their food arrived, and the awkward atmosphere gradually lifted as they got to know more about each other, and laughed at the time Irving tried to tie a bow tie and ended up nearly getting sent to the ER, because “He didn’t want to admit defeat, the poor sod! He was nearly purple in the face!” as well as cringing at Yaz’s dad trying to prove that the moon was flat instead of the earth being flat. “It’s true, Jane! I swear it’s true as I live and breathe!” 

—

Several hours had passed, and the two of them were stumbling out of the restaurant to see a mostly-empty parking lot and a perfectly round moon, Yaz’s heels hooked over her fingers and Jane’s hand slipped casually into hers. Jane led Yaz over to a dark blue and gold plated motorcycle and handed a gold helmet to Yaz, who took it and fastened it over her head, and Jane put on her own pastel pink helmet, swinging a leg over the seat and giving a hand to Yaz, who gladly took it and bounced onto the seat. The two of them sat there for a while, looking at the moon, and Jane revved the motorcycle, backing out of the parking lot and taking off down the highway. Yaz flung her arms around Jane, who slowed down slightly, the gale blowing past them slowed to a breeze, and Yaz rested her head on Jane’s shoulder, who leaned her head against the side of Yaz’s helmet, a dull thunk sounding, and it felt like no time had passed at all once they pulled into the warm light of Jane’s shop, and the hum of the motorcycle of her motorcycle had died down, leaving only small popping sounds as the motor cooled. Yaz was about to excuse herself when Jane put a hand up, the other hand fishing for her keys. “I’m walking you home, Yaz, if you wouldn’t mind?” Yaz shook her head, “Thank you, Jane,” and stepped out into the cool night air, and soon enough, Jane walked out and locked the final steel folding gate, and offered her arm for Yaz to take, which she did gladly. 

Jane noticed that Yaz was still barefoot, and offered her loafers to Yaz, who refused them with a smile. “It’s fine, Jane.” Jane smiled and took her loafers off anyway, hooking her fingers through the loops on the back of the counter, and stripped her socks off as well, the two of them walking barefoot back to Yaz’s house.

—

Yaz’s house was dark, everyone most likely already asleep, apart from one room, which Yaz pointed out and smiled. “That’s Sonya’s room. She’s studying to become a doctor, and my mum’s so happy about that.” Just as they passed the gate, it started raining, and Jane hurriedly shed her jacket to cover the two of them, running back to the portico that covered the doorway, where Yaz pulled out a bronze key and unlocked the door to reveal a darkened living room, then turned back. “Thanks for the dinner, Jane. I loved getting to know you better.” Jane smiled, jacket still pitched over head, and replied happily “It’s alright, Yaz.” Without giving herself a chance to second-guess what she was about to do next, Yaz brought their lips together and kissed Jane, sweet and slow. Nothing else seemed to exist in that moment apart from the feeling of Jane’s lips on hers, the faint spiced apple taste of her lip balm and the rain. 

They only pulled apart because Jane ran out of breath, and Yaz went in to kiss her again, but Jane stopped her, saying wistfully “You won’t remember this.” Yaz shrugged and kissed Jane again, and this time Jane didn’t stop her. “All the more reason to enjoy it while it lasts, Jane.” The pair of them stood out there in the rain, snogging like teenagers, and it was Yaz who ended the last kiss. “Your jacket’s sopping wet, Jane.” Jane smiled joylessly, kissing Yaz one last time on the cheek and strode out into the downpour, jacket held over head in a fruitless effort to stop herself from getting wet. She stopped at the gate and smiled one last time, a sad yet dreamy smile that seemed to light up the world, and she ran.

—

The next morning, golden rays of sunlight permeated Jane’s small but cosy room, bouncing off the whitewashed walls and the various knick-knacks and tools littered around carelessly, and in the middle of it all, a messy bed with Jane in the middle, a hand thrown haphazardly over her eyes. The arm moved, and eyes opened to reveal hazel green eyes, which blinked several times before Jane decided to finally get up.

Hopping down the stairs with a cup of earl grey, she unlocked the security grille and went to work, pulling out her own motorcycle, which did not like being left in the shed and not under a tarp. As she worked, she apologised profusely and tried to coax Sexy into working, which was disregarded with an air of mechanical insouciance. She was so into working that she didn’t notice someone entering the shop until they cleared their throat, and Jane turned around, and Yaz stood there, clad in a hoodie and sweatpants, smiling softly at Jane. “Hi, Jane. Did you have to run home last night?” Jane smiled cautiously and nodded, and waited for Yaz to continue. “Say, Jane, what’re you working on?” Jane said “Sexy isn’t working.” 

“Sexy?” 

“Oh, sorry. TARDIS. My motorcycle. Stands for Travels and Reaches Destination In Style.”

Yaz laughed, and moved closer until the two of them were sitting on the floor, hipbone touching hipbone and Jane’s head on Yaz’s shoulder. 

Yaz was, again, the first to break the silence. “I remember what happened last night, Jane. I remember the dinner, the ride home, and us kissing in the rain. And above all, I remember that I love you, Jane Smith, and I’ve never loved anyone else like this.” Jane was stunned into silence, and she lifted her arm to curl around Yaz’s shoulders, pulling the two closer together, and pressed a kiss to Yaz’s temple. 

“I love you, Jane Smith.”

“And I love you, Yasmin Khan.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger is really good  
> So is The Visible Man by Chuck Klosterman
> 
> go read em both


End file.
